


Taming the Demon

by yummysushipajamas



Category: Loren the Amazon Princess
Genre: Demon Sex, Developing Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fighting that turns into sex, International Fanworks Day 2021, Rough Sex, Virgin sex, sexual awakening
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:02:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29430684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yummysushipajamas/pseuds/yummysushipajamas
Summary: Elenor insisted on keeping the dark elf, Mesphit, alive, and Loren has charged her with keeping him under control. But the closer they get to Everburn, the stronger the pull of the demon becomes. The demon inside Mesphit has grown more difficult to manage, and Elenor is at the end of her rope, unsure of what to do. So she decides to try a new tactic…
Relationships: Elenor/Mesphit
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	Taming the Demon

**Author's Note:**

> (A/N): This game doesn’t have much fiction to its name on this site, and none that I can see for this pairing, which I really happen to like. So, in honor of lesser known fandoms, I am writing this. It’s, well, mostly sex, but there is some relationship development going on. I might turn this into a full story in the future, but for now, this is what it is. Enjoy!

The day had been long and heavy with travel, but the group had finally settled on a place to camp. They had pitched their tents and built their fires, sharing in a meal as they always did, reveling in stories of past exploits.

Elenor usually enjoyed the comradery—it was a nice reminder that they were all still alive—but as the night grew deeper in the field where the group had settled, she began to realize how truly exhausted she was. She’d had too many sleepless nights recently.

She took off her leather harness and loincloth, slipping into the small garment she had to sleep in—a brown deerskin shirt that had a tie closure in the front, which barely shielded her breasts, but it was not much different from what the Amazons had her wear daily. Elenor had been scantily clad since her youth. She was not ashamed.

The petite forest elf sighed, running a hand through her short, tawny hair, trying to soothe herself. Would she get sleep tonight? She knew that would all depend on Mesphit.

She recalled the night that he had first come to her, creeping into her tent in the quiet darkness. He’d put his hand over her mouth until she’d realized it was him. His touch was always surprisingly cool and gentle, especially for the things she had seen him do in battle. The dark elf was vicious when he let the demon out, but it had been becoming much harder to call Mesphit back after it emerged.

She had feared that he was slipping. She suspected he felt that way as well.

That had been the night he’d told her that he was leaving. He could not stay with the group any longer, and he was obliged to flee. He could have gone in secret, of course, but he had told her first. She was glad of that, but she had not been sure why.

He had taken her hand that night, pleaded with her passionately. He had asked her to come with him – told her that she should take her freedom from slavery and claim the life she wanted for herself. The idea had certainly tempted her, but only for a moment. After she realized that running would not change things, that the threat of the demons would be real no matter where she ran, she had refused.

“How can you still want to run? Don’t you understand that it will fix nothing? But if you’re so set on going, go!” she had told him. “No one will stop you this time.”

He had stared at her a moment, hurt and anger in his blue eyes, and then he had risen up in a quick motion, moving toward the tent flap.

Her mind had searched rapidly. He would leave? No, she did not want that. She had worked so hard to keep him here, and she was responsible for him. She certainly could not let him go.

Before he had gotten to the flap, she had leapt at him, jumping on his back to pull him backward, and he landed on her furs. She leaned over him, her hand on his chest, as if she might hold him down.

“You said you wouldn’t stop me,” he said, his brow furrowed with dismay.

“You made the wrong choice,” she told him. “How can you run? Running won’t change anything. You said you are a weapon for the dark elves, then strike at Everburn for them! Stay with us. We can give you that.”

She could see his mind working, the gears turning, but she did not think he was convinced.

“Don’t leave,” she’d said, her voice softer. “Please.”

For a moment, she thought she had convinced him, but he had never listened before. Why would he now? Instead, he threw her off of him and stood in a quick motion, looking at her from the tent flap, as if giving her a warning.

“I will,” he’d said, pure defiance dripping from his mouth. Then added, “ _Don’t let me._ ”

She had gone after him, and though he was much stronger than her, with or without the demon, she had managed to subdue him after wrestling him to the ground. The demon had tried to come out, but she had fought against it. She believed he had as well, and once they were both spent, she had collapsed on top of him and fallen asleep in the grass outside.

That had been their first fight, and others had come, almost every night. Elenor had taken to sleeping where he slept in order to keep an eye on him, often with her body wrapped around his. If he moved, she would know. He tolerated her, begrudgingly, but Elenor dared not sleep too deeply for the worry that he would flee. He was too dangerous to be unattended out in the world. If he left and lost control of the demon, she would be responsible for that.

But there was another reason. She wanted him here; wanted him close. Loren had been given many reasons to kill the dark elf, and yet Elenor had fought for him again and again, even when he would not fight for himself. She was not sure why the pull to keep him alive was so strong, but somehow, she could not give up on him.

Hearing a disturbance at the door of the tent, she turned and saw that Mesphit had come inside. He stopped shortly to look at her a moment, but he said nothing, moving to his place on the furs. He had come to accept her company by now, and had resigned himself to join her, for he knew she would come for him if he did not.

Tonight, Elenor was feeling at her wit’s end. She had fought with him and his demon every night for almost a week, and she was ready to try something else. Anything that might work.

She turned to him, her expression resolved.

“You should take off your clothes,” she said, looking him straight in the eye. She did not stutter or falter when she said it, her intent firm.

He regarded her, his brow furrowing as he thought that over.

“To what end?” he asked calmly. He seemed to have no reaction – to anything, ever – unless it was anger.

“I thought that maybe if you were naked, you would be less likely to run,” she suggested. “Or at least it would take you longer to prepare first.”

“Do you think the demon cares for my nakedness?” he asked. “If it wants to run, it will run.”

“Perhaps you will fight it a bit harder.” She did not relent. It was not a sexual insistence, but one of necessity, she felt.

Mesphit only looked at her, tilted up his chin, and moved toward his side of the mat once again, not phased. Her effort had not worked, it seemed. Elenor had decided not to have a reaction toward it. Perhaps it would not have helped to begin with. It might not have helped her get any sleep—

She heard a quiet rustling behind her, and when she turned to look, Mesphit had just finished taking off his pants, standing naked in the tent, his muscles tight beneath his blue skin, his penis hanging low between his strong thighs.

Even so, he met her eyes.

“There. You have fully degraded me. Does this please you?” he asked, presenting himself before her out of spite.

Elenor stared at his naked body for longer than she would like to admit before she turned her back. She tried to tell herself that she was not embarrassed or anything else. Looking at a naked male should not have had any effect on her at all. She had been brought up along the Amazons, had always been taught to revere the female form, and that the male form had no beauty.

And yet, it was not true that he had no effect on her.

She had noticed his shape before, his broad chest and muscular arms, how strong he appeared. She had admired his body, even though she had not been meant to do so, and even though he was a dark elf. He was still an elf. She could not see him any other way. He was different from her, and yet…the same.

Behind her, Mesphit settled himself on the mat, pulling the furs up around him to shield himself, and finally Elenor turned to the furs as well.

She could feel his heat already as she settled in next to him, a heat so familiar now. While it was usually her habit to at least entangle her hand in his harness to trigger her in case he moved, she could not bring herself to touch him now that he was naked.

She wondered if she would be able to sleep after all.

* * *

Elenor had drifted into sleep when she felt a disturbance near her. She jumped up immediately, fearing that Mesphit was about to flee, and she would have to fight him again. Indeed, he was restless in his sleep, but he was still resting there on the furs, groaning and twitching.

She simply watched him for several minutes, trying to decide whether he would be able to hold the demon back on his own. She still did not fully understand what the transformation was like, but she had tried to imagine it. He had said it was ‘ _a darkness’_ , but she could not fathom that. Elenor watched him struggle, and when she had determined that he was not gaining any ground against the demon, she pressed her hands against his shoulders.

“Mesphit,” she said firmly. “Come back to me. Wake up.”

He had told her that he could hear her voice through the dark, and he was able to follow it to pull himself back. It was her voice only that he could hear clearly; none other. She never knew what would happen when she intervened, however. Often, they fought. He might knock her off of him, but she would come right back. The demon was ruthless, and did not care if it hurt her. Mesphit himself, she was not always sure, but she did not believe he wanted to hurt her. He had been gentle with her before, almost sweet at times.

_He had gently adjusted her stance, his fingers playing along her hips during target practice in the forest._

_He had brought her a damp towel from the lake, letting the water drip over her to cool her off beneath the scorching sun._

“Mesphit, can you hear me?”

She had not quite been ready when he had grabbed hold of her, sitting up. When he opened his eyes, she was not sure if she would be looking at Mesphit or the demon, but then his eyes cleared, and she saw that the dark elf was there with her.

He was breathing heavily, clenching her waist, his fingers digging in.

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” she said. “I’m tired, Mesphit.”

“Then let me go,” he entreated. It sounded like a demand, but she knew that he was begging. He needed release from this. She had once told him that she would give him that.

“I want to try something else,” she said gently. “Can we do that?”

He said nothing, but exhaled, resting back in resignation. His chest rose and fell with irritation, his eyes rimmed with darkness as he tried to hold the demon back. She wanted to help him, and she thought, maybe, that she knew a place to start.

She reached for the strings that held her thin shirt together, watching his reaction as she tugged them loose. Elenor had lived her life as a slave, and she gave no thought to her own desires or wants. She gave no value to her own body, or even her life. All she knew was to give of herself, and if she must give of herself sexually to solve this problem, that was what she would do.

She pulled the strings until they were undone, but before she had revealed her body to him, he had stopped her.

“No,” he said quickly, grasping her hands before they could go any further. She could see that he was angry with her attempt.

“Do I repulse you?” she asked, hating the idea that it might be true. She was a forest elf with golden skin and brown eyes, certainly not a dark elf with blue skin. He hated her kind; she knew that, but she had thought that maybe he had decided not to hate _her_. She knew that did not mean he would want to sully himself with her, however.

“It is because you do this out of obligation and not out of want,” he said, nearly growling the words. He had sat up to express his distaste, clutching her hands, but his breath was still heated.

“That’s not true,” she said, shaking her head. “I think there is more between us than this demon. You have been aware of me. You have tried not to hurt me, warned me against you. When you are truly you, your touch has been gentle. You don’t hate me, despite what I am. I won’t believe that.”

He seemed surprised to hear her say these things, and then his expression hardened. He threw her off of him onto the mat, pushing her away. It was clear that the demon was stirring, and he felt agitated. Perhaps she had only succeeded in making things worse.

He sat there a moment, but would not look at her, breathing – _trying_ , she thought.

“Mesphit…”

He shot up from the mat, giving no care to his nudity. The demon could drive him to move with supernatural speed. He grabbed his clothing and his bow, moving swiftly toward the flap of the tent. He was determined to flee, and he would worry about his state of undress later.

“Mesphit, stop! I won’t let you,” she claimed.

She tried to grab him but he broke free of her grasp. She stumbled back, and in doing so, her shirt fell open against her skin.

Elenor knew that her breasts were exposed, but she did not correct it. She watched him, and if he had dashed out of the tent, she would have followed him, clothes or no clothes. It would have been a spectacle for the camp to see, but she had her focus, and she would not fail in what her mistress had charged her with.

Mesphit stared at her, his eyes dipping across her body before flicking back to her eyes—over and over again. He was trying not to look at her, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. Elenor was not sure what it meant. If he was truly repulsed by her, maybe she should have been ashamed.

But instead of running away, he slowly began to approach. She watched his muscular body come toward her, appraising her for mere moments, his chest heaving. And then…

He dropped to his knees and pulled her down onto his lap. He gripped her hair, ripping the flap of her shirt away and his mouth fell immediately on her breast, a groan rumbling out from his throat.

Elenor gasped and then clamped her lips shut so that no one else would hear, remembering that she had to be aware of the others sleeping in the tents around them. She felt his teeth at first, biting along the edge of her nipple. The pain was sharp and exquisite, rising it to a hard peak before she felt his tongue glide over it, and he sucked it with force. When he let go, she felt a chill in the wake of the warm saliva on her skin, and he bit her other breast, his fingers digging into the skin at her back.

She felt a wetness between her legs like she’d never felt before, a building arousal for his rough handling. She felt as if her body was more pliable, her muscles relaxing, making room to receive him. She felt his cock rise between her legs, bigger than she’d thought—bigger than it had been before when she’d seen it—though she had never quite known what to imagine. She only knew about the female body, after all, but there was something about this, a want that she could not describe.

She _wanted_ him inside of her. 

Her fingers wrapped around his erection and he groaned, gripping her harder. She stroked it, feeling the male sex for the first time. It _awoke_ something in her. She had never fathomed it before. Maybe only because it was him.

He angled her body so that she could guide him back into her warm wetness, which she did, dragging the tip across her clit. She sighed quietly for the sensation, and then he was at her entrance. She felt the beginnings of that entry, a sharp progression. She had never—

With a rough motion, he pushed into her fully, burying himself completely inside, and once again, the _pain_. He ripped through delicate tissue to get to her center. She had not told him that she’d never done this before, but she could not fault him. She had offered herself, and he was feeling the demon.

Or maybe this was just Mesphit.

He bit her neck, thrusting into her roughly, and she tried to keep herself from screaming, or crying, or both. It hurt, but she didn’t want him to stop. She wanted his relief to flow over her, and she would bear what she must.

Instead, she worked against him as she could, trying so hard to keep quiet. She dug her nails into his back and held on, as if she might be thrown off by his furious movements.

After a few minutes, she heard him groan, felt liquid dripping down her legs, but she did not quite understand what had happened. Because he did not stop.

He laid her back against the mat and lifted her hips to get a better angle, relentless. He lowered his head and she saw his grimace as he worked, forcing himself into her. His long hair brushed her torso, tickling her stomach, her breasts.

Elenor watched him, holding her breath. He was beautiful, truly. A vicious animal at times, but a beautiful elf. His long yellow hair complementing his blue skin… She was surprised she had never thought it before.

Once again she felt a gush of warm liquid below, and she heard him groan lowly, like the growl of an animal. She was not really sure whether it was Mesphit or the demon. Finally, he began to slow, and then he withdrew himself from her.

He only looked at her face once he was done. She tried to hide her expression from him, but it was clear that he saw it.

She felt his hand along her chin, forcing her to look at him. He rolled off of her, laying alongside, his dark-skinned body contrasting with hers. He examined her for a few moments in silence before he spoke.

“You didn’t tell me you were a virgin,” he said. There was a note of regret in his voice. “I hurt you.”

She shook her head. “I can take it,” she said stubbornly, even though the ache lingered. “Do you feel calmer?”

He paused, his eyes searching hers. “Yes.”

“Good. Maybe you’ll let me get some sleep tonight.”

Elenor closed her eyes, but did not dare release him in case he would try to flee. She hoped that the pleasure she had given his body was enough to distract him from the demon, at least for the time.

As the night passed on, both of them slept a deep sleep that they both truly needed. He did not stir again.


End file.
